


You told me that I was younger (That I was filled with wonder)

by Callmepapi



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, First Time, M/M, Public Blow Jobs, Public Sex, Spit As Lube
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-25
Updated: 2020-04-25
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:46:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23842477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Callmepapi/pseuds/Callmepapi
Summary: A retelling of what could have went down the first time Geralt and Jaskier met.Yes, well. Maybe you wouldn’t mind some warm companionship?”, he asked, the tone in his voice was lower, his intentions shining through.“I’m not paying you for a fuck”. The bard's eyebrows shot up, he spluttered.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 4
Kudos: 133





	You told me that I was younger (That I was filled with wonder)

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, this was how it was intended to go.
> 
> Title from ‘wild blue yonder’ by The Amazing Devil.

“Love the way you just sit in the corner and brood”

Geralt looked up at the bard who had previously been belting a, rather terrible if you asked him, song about mythical monsters. The song had been terrible, yes, but the voice that sang it, well, that could be a quite beautiful sound under  _ other  _ circumstances.

Geralt looked at the tankard on the table, breaking himself from his thought, “I’m here to drink alone”, he said. The bard rushed to the bench in front of him and sat down, his face now bathed in a ray of sunshine. Geralt would be lying if he said he didn’t find the bard slightly attractive, the way his eyes lit up under the sun, catching the light, his long lashes shadowing underneath, his mouth slightly agape - inviting, almost. The look on the bard's face - mischievous, smirking, seductive - told Geralt that the boy was flirting.

“Yes, well. Maybe you wouldn’t mind some  _ warm  _ companionship?”, he asked, the tone in his voice was lower, his intentions shining through.

“I’m not paying you for a fuck”. The bard's eyebrows shot up, he spluttered.

“P-pay me? No, no-no-no… I didn’t ask for money, I’m not a- a whore or something. Just a bard”, he smiled at Geralt, “I was  _ flirting _ . I saw you sitting here, alone, might I add, and- well, I mean you are gorgeous, a specimen, really. I thought, oh Jaskier, that’s a  _ man. _ Like a  _ whole man _ ”. Geralt sighed, rolled his eyes, then spoke up.

“Get to the point, bard”

“Yes- well.  _ I _ , Jaskier, the soon-to-be-famous poet, would like to make… a- a deal! Yes…”

“You’re propositioning me? For what? So you can run home and tell all your friends that you managed to fuck a Witcher?”, he grumbled. Jaskier scoffed, cleared his throat then,

“What!? No, no I would never…”, he looked down at the table, then met eyes with the Witcher “... I was flirting with you… ‘cause I think you’re pretty. You’re  _ very _ pretty in fact. And I just wondered if… that maybe you’ll be interested in me?”, he spoke timidly. The sudden shyness was adorable on him, Geralt thought, a small blush appeared on the bard’s cheeks.

“Come here”, he patted the space next to him, moving his swords to lean against the wall. The bard lifted his legs over the bench quickly and hurried over to the empty space next to the Witcher. Once he was settled, he turned to look at the golden eyes of the man next to him.

“Pretty…”, he hummed. Geralt grunted.

“Have you ever been with a Witcher before?”. The bard shook his head.

“Mm- no”, said Jaskier. The nervousness evident in his voice, “first time for everything?”

Geralt laughed, a low, short grumble that echoed through his chest. He watched the bard’s throat bob when he swallowed.

“Didn’t think you’d get this far, did you?”. Jaskier’s eyes flicked to the floor then back at Geralt before answering,

“It usually works out for me”, he says.

“You didn’t think you’d get this far with a  _ Witcher _ ”. Jaskier gingerly shakes his head.

“Well, here we are”, Geralt continues, “what was your plan?”

The bard's mischievous smirk returns to his face. Eyes darkening, he says, “ I would’ve taken you back to my room, had you suck my dick, then I would’ve given you the best  _ riding _ in your life”, he tells him, “I still plan to do just that, unless you don’t want to, of course?”

Geralt huffed out another laugh, “It's funny”, he says.

“What?”, Jaskier asks.

“How much you think you’re in control. We’re not  _ going _ to your room”, he chances a glance at the other patrons of the tavern, too drunk to notice anything, “Under the table”, he orders. Jaskier gulps again then cautiously, glancing at the other patrons too, making sure no one's looking, he kneels under the table, right in front of the tent in Geralt's trouser which, somehow, he never noticed before. The sight in front of the bard causes his cock to twitch in excitement.

The Witcher slowly undoes the buttons to his trousers, letting the young bard watch in anticipation as his pink, hard dick springs free under the table. Jaskier was in awe at the size of it. With one hand Geralt rubbed himself up then down in front of the bard. Jaskier’s cock straining against his blue trousers. With the same hand, Geralt gripped the young bard's hair, pulling him towards his dick.

Jaskier opens his mouth quickly, rushing to taste the Witcher on his tongue. The strong hand in his hair forces the bard to take in the Witcher all at once, using his hand he rubs down the rest that he couldn’t take. The hand pulls him out, barely enough time to get a breath, then back in, fucking into his head. They build up a rhythm. Geralt pulls out, leaving just a bit more than the tip in the bard's mouth.

With his heightened awareness he can hear the bard moaning quietly to himself, can hear his tongue brushing against the underside of his dick, can hear the rustling in jaskier’s trousers as he palms himself through the fabric. A sharp jolt of pleasure runs through him, straight to his cock. He breathes slowly. Eyes shut as he continues to lose himself to the bard, fucking into him.

“Refill?”, a woman asks Geralt. The Witcher snaps his eyes open. He forces the bard to take all of him then uses his thighs to keep him in place.

Thank god for the table covering them.

He’s aware that Jaskier can’t breathe now, smiling as he nods at the waitress. She pours more ale into Geralt's cup.

“‘Aven’t seen that bard ‘ave you?”. He shakes his head.

“Hmm”, he can feel Jaskier trying to escape him, clawing at his thigh, choking on his dick, he can smell the salty tears in his eyes, “ bards are always fucking anything that moves”. She laughs, completely unaware of the suffocating bard under the table as Geralt tightens his thighs around his head.

“Well, if you see ‘im, you tell ‘im that ‘e needs to pay up. We ‘ain’t givin’ ‘im a room for free”, she laughs then walks off.

Jaskier struggles for breath, dark splotches spreading over his vision. 

_ This is it,  _ he thinks,  _ Jaskier, the poet, died between a Witcher’s thighs. Oh, what a way to go… _

Geralt pulls out, causing the bard to cough and splutter from under the table.

“Quiet!”, he hisses. The bard moves closer so that Geralt can see his face.

“Oh! I'm sorry! Does me almost dying make you uncomfortable?!”, he whispers, rather loudly.

“No, but unless you want everyone to see you, you better shut up”, he growls. The bard sets back to work, using his tongue to lick over the tip of the Witcher’s cock, suckling it, before he drags down across the underside of his dick, fitting as much in his mouth as he can. He goes in and out hollowing his cheeks as he sucks.

Geralt feels that hot feeling in the pit of his stomach build up again, getting stronger every time Jaskier goes back in for another taste. He tightens his grip back onto the bards head, knuckles almost white as the pressure builds inside him.

“Fuck”, he grunts. The bard licks the small amount of precome that glistens at the top of Geralt's dick, savouring it, smiling as he does so. He goes back in, trying eagerly to take as much of Geralt as he can. He feels the bard's throat clench around his throbbing cock, trying to swallow. This is the breaking point for Geralt as he closes his eyes, throws his head back and shoots white-hot ropes down the bard’s throat, swallowing as much as Geralt gives him. He pants, catching his breath, while Jaskier removes himself from his spent dick, sitting upright on his knees. Waiting for his next instruction.

“Up here”, says Geralt, patting the space next to him once again. Jaskier slithers through the gap between table and chair then looks up at the Witcher.

“Yes?”, he asks. Geralt glances at the tent in the bard’s trousers then,

“Here”, he pats his lap. Jaskier furrows his eyebrows, confusion clear on his face.

“What?”, he says, though he doesn’t  _ really  _ question it. Instead, he pulls himself on top of the Witcher’s lap. No one seems to notice still, they’re tucked up in a corner, table covering their crotches, whilst everyone else drinks till they’re drunk, cheerily singing songs to each other.

Jaskier straightens up all of a sudden, able to feel the Witcher’s growing cock underneath him.

“Gods! I heard tales of Witcher’s stamina, didn’t think they meant this!”. He feels Geralt's fingers through his trouser, they’re running down the line of his ass, teasing, before he stops and uses his other hand to rip a hole in them, right through.

“Ah! Geralt!”, he cried, “I liked these trousers!”

“Shush!”, said the Witcher. Geralt brought a finger to his mouth, licked it till it dripped with saliva, then used it to open the bard up, slow and steady. He sighed, listening to the sharp intakes of breath the younger man took, the small moans and whimpers coming from those pink lips of his. Geralt crooked his finger, brushing across those nerves that set the bards body alight. He shook in the Witcher’s lap, Geralt using his other hand to sling across his waist, keeping him in place, before adding another finger, then another, then another until he was sure that Jaskier was stretched enough to accommodate the girth of Geralt's cock.

“F-fuck, Geralt”, he moaned, his hands gripped the edge of the wooden table, covering them until his knuckles turned white, “Please- gods! Please, Geralt… I- I need you.  _ All _ of you”. Geralt grunted, pulling his fingers out and grabbing his throbbing cock, still wet from the bard’s saliva, before aligning it with jaskier’s own, clenching, hole. He uses his strength to lift the bard by his hips, slowly easing him down on top until he’s fully seated.

“Gods, you’re- you’re so big, Geralt. I’ve never”, he swallows thickly before continuing, “I feel so full”

“Hmm. Just relax, bard”, he says. Jaskier wiggles his hips, desperate for some friction.

“Move, Geralt. Please, lift me up or something!”, he cries. Instead, Geralt reaches his hand wrapped around the bard's waist to his dick, still tenting his trousers. He undoes the laces on his back with his other hand then slides under the blue fabric and moves his thumb over the tip, enjoying the shiver that runs through Jaskier. He uses the precome and smears it over the rest of the bard's cock, rubbing slowly from base to tip. Geralt moves his hips at a steady pace, moving around to try and hit Jaskier at a certain angle.

He knows he does when the bard stiffens in his lap, moaning softly, breathing heavily. Geralt continues moving, his hand sliding up and down Jaskier’s throbbing dick from beneath the table. He hits that spot again and feels the bard's cock twitch in his hand, sliding up then twisting near the top, thumbing the tip again. He knows jaskier’s close, he’s whimpering, crying and building up a sweat. Geralt can feel his own heat build up once again, making him jerk his hips at a rougher, faster pace.

“Shit! F-uck! Geralt, I-”, he cries out, leaning forward and resting his elbows on the table. Geralt leans forward, unintentionally hitting that spot again, causing the bard to jerk into him. He leans into Jaskier's ear and  _ growls _ , twisting the bard's cock in his hand, knowing that that will undo him, and it does. Jaskier whimpers, cries and comes into the Witcher’s hand shooting into Geralt's fingers, who continues rubbing him through it. Geralt can feel the bard clenching around his dick, only bringing him closer to his own release. Jaskier takes quick breaths before mewling and crying out as the Witcher continues thrusting into the oversensitive bard. Jaskier squirms in his grip, whimpering as Geralt rubs his spent dick, painfully sensitive as he sweeps his fingers over the tip. All the little noises and chirps the bard makes finally bring Geralt over the edge, grunting into the bard.

A deep sigh escapes Jaskier when he finally feels Geralt's hot seed fill him, his cock twitching against his inner walls. Geralt pulls his hand out the bard's pants, spinning him around to his right, spent dick still inside him.

He admires the flush high in the bard’s cheeks, the thin shimmer of sweat on his face, and his mouth, still panting heavily. He brings his sticky fingers up to jaskier’s lips and the bard takes them, happily, sucking them till they’re clean.

“Everything go to plan?”, Geralt asked. The bard smirked, nodding his head.

“Better than the plan”, he said, before adding, “I still have that room, by the way”

Geralt huffs a laugh, “lead the way”

  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Let’s all just ignore the fact that Jaskier now has a hole ripped in his trousers.
> 
> Comments are much appreciated, had you had fun luvs xoxoxo


End file.
